Third Time is the Charm
by miarae
Summary: It’s his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Third Time is the Charm

**Author: **Miarae

**Summary: **It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

**A/N: **My very first SP fic. I'm really excited about writing this.

* * *

_If this were a fairytale it'd start out with the perfect sentence, drawing everybody in right from the start. But this isn't a story, it's my life, and I've never been great with words. There are amusing little things that I can tell you, things that'll make you laugh, but this story isn't one of them..._

_At least, I don't think it is. I wouldn't know, since I can't exactly look into the future. Yes, this is a diary and no, I'm not some fairy. Plenty of guys keep a diary, okay?!_

_Anyway, onto the important things. I'm Stan Marsh, 18 years old and I live in South Park, Colorado. It's where I spent my entire life, and made friends that will be around for the rest of my life. It's great fun, but sometimes I long for something else. Something more. And that's the exact reason why I've signed up for an exchange trip at school. They want to raise awareness for other people, get our town widely known and some more of that stupid shit. Frankly, I don't care. Booze and babes, that's what it's all about! I wonder if they'll put me with a nice girl..._

Stan looked up from his position on the bed when he heard the familiar sound of the computer, telling him that he had just received e-mail. Looking back at the diary he added a few short sentences in sloppy writing.

_They've given us nothing but the email addresses of the people we're supposed to stay with. Something about getting to know one another without prejudice. I sent an email to him/her this morning. Will write more when I find out who this mystery person is!_

Putting the diary under his pillow he darted over to the computer, opening the mail that sat waiting for him. The e-mail that he'd sent out this morning had been nothing special, just a small introduction that said he was Stan, lived in a small village in Colorado, and something about his favourite pastimes. The e-mail back was roughly along those lines as well.

**Hey Stan,**

**It's nice to meet you. I'm looking forward to seeing your town. When I was younger I used to live in a really small town as well, and I'm willing to bet that if I went back there, everything would still be the same. It's a nice thought actually, isn't it? That some things stay the same no matter how fast you're changing?**

**Look at me, my first e-mail and I'm already being philosophy guy. Yep, I'm a guy, sorry to burst your bubble! I hope we'll get along, though I feel that it is only fair if I warn you now. I'm gay. Some people have problems with that, so I thought I'd give you a heads-up. So dude, if you decide you'd rather room with a chick...no hard feelings. **

**If you do decide you'd like to meet me, here's some random info about me. I'm 17, live in San Francisco and spend most of my time either skating or playing the guitar. I've started skating after I moved to SF, and some people say I'm pretty good at it. Who knows, maybe you've seen yours truly in the paper. I've been in there a couple of times after I won some lame competition. Do I sound like a complete asshole yet? I don't mean to be, but it's kind of hard to talk about hobbies without at least mentioning how good you're at it. If it helps, I totally suck at playing the guitar. No rhythm at all. **

**Looking forward to hearing from you dude.**

Stan smiled. Okay, so it wasn't a girl, but he sounded like a nice guy. He wondered for a moment what to write back, his fingers already on the keys, and decided to just go with the flow. That's what this was all about after all, wasn't it? Getting to know the person without the masks or stereotypes attached.

_Hey dude (I noticed you didn't mention your name. Are you just shy or does it suck?)_

_You sound like a pretty cool guy. I'm glad you told me about your being gay, but it doesn't bother me. Some people from my town might dislike it, but fuck them. _

_It sounds like you'd fit in with my friends. My best friend plays the drums, we jam together sometimes, I play the electric guitar and another friend of mine plays acoustic guitar and sings. His voice is pretty good, though you'd have to ignore anything other than singing that comes out of his mouth. He's a selfish bastard, but we've hung out for over ten years and our group wouldn't be the same without him._

_Other than music I work at a local pet shelter during the summers. My parents got me the job after I got into trouble (again) for trying to rescue some poor dog. It's a pretty cool job, the pay is crappy but I love the animals. It's always nice if you feel like you can contribute to the world somehow. (Hey look at me, I'm as philosophical as you are ;) ) _

_Up until three months ago I used to hang out with my girlfriend as well, but we broke up. She tried to force me to go to the same college as she does, and threw a big bitchfit when I told her that I wasn't going to fuck up my future just to stay close to her. Apparently she'd been saving up for a ring to ask me to marry her, though that's just a rumour I heard in school. You're lucky you're a guy or she would have killed you for so much as looking at me._

_-Stan_

**Stan,**

**Your girlfriend sounds like a total psycho, dude. You're lucky to be rid of her, if you ask me. Your friends sound cool though, I'm looking forward to meeting them. I used to know a guy like your friend (the singer). He was a stupid fatass, but we kept hanging out with him because..like you said, the group wouldn't be the same.**

**I usually don't have too much time to hang out with friends, except when I'm skating. That's sort of my second job. My first is washing dishes at a restaurant. It's a sucky job, long hours and shitty pay, but I've got to do something. It's just me, mom and my little brother at home. Dad died a few years back, so I'm pretty much the only one who brings in any money. I've actually been saving up for this trip for a damn long time. Didn't think I was going to have enough money until I won that competition. **

**Look at me, I sound like a total fag. What's your life like, other than hanging out with friends and working at the pet shelter? And what's your family like? Do they like having me over? My mom is psyched about having you here, so be warned. She's kind of...intense, but I love her to death. The only thing I can't stand is her trying to set me up with all kinds of guys. Mom's just don't need updates on their kids love life, right?**

**Gotta go now dude, hanging out with some friends tonight. Hope to hear from you soon!**

Stan had read through the e-mail, eager to know more about the guy that would be spending two weeks with him, just a month from now. It was nice to get to know him like this, and only when Stan had already hit the reply button did he realise that he _still_ didn't know the others name.

**Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Third Time is the Charm

**Author: **Miarae

**Summary: **It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

**A/N: **My very first SP fic. I'm really excited about writing this. And all the reviews and story alerts made me so happy! Thank you all.

* * *

Stan had the same schedule every week. On Monday he had football practise after school. Tuesdays were spent with Kenny, hanging out at Starks Pond or somewhere else. They went to the movies sometimes, or bought liquor and sat outside watching the stars. Wednesday was a Family Night. No matter how much he pretended to detest it, it was actually fun to spend time with his parents now that Shelley had moved out. Thursday he spent catching up on his homework and Friday til Sunday was spent hanging out at Cartman's place or going into town. It was very predictable but he liked it that way. Stan loved spending time with his friends, especially since having Wendy as his girlfriend had meant lots of 'quality time' at her house, and not in the good way.

It was Friday today, and so he was on his way to Cartman's house, whistling absently. His mind was on the guy that would get to spend two weeks with him. He wondered if Kenny would like him. Kenneth 'Kenny' McCormick was his best friend, had been ever since Kyle had moved to San Francisco. The poor boy had been there for him through some tough times, like when his father had become an alcoholic yet again. Nobody understood what it was like to have to see your father losing the battle against booze. Nobody but Kenny.

So they'd grown closer, much to chagrin of Eric Cartman, but the three still spent a big part of their week together. Cartman had the games and the room to house all of them, Kenny had the booze and Stan...He'd like to think that bringing his company was enough, though he was aware of the fact that he actually didn't contribute much to their weekends. Making a mental note to bring it up sometime tonight, he rang the doorbell.

_Hey,_

_Dude, I need a name. I keep having to refer to you as 'that one guy', or 'the guy who's going to stay at my house'. Honestly, your name -can't- be much longer than that, so help me out here?_

_So you asked about my life...prepare to be bored. I have a pretty strict schedule, though it sounds like you do too with your two jobs. It's hard, juggling everything, isn't it? The town pretty much expects me to get a scholarship based on my football career, but I hardly have time to train as it is. I run a lot though, especially when I can't wake up in the morning. Meaning that I'm late a lot. I hope you're more of a morning person than I am or my friends are going to kill us._

_My parents are psyched as well. My sister recently moved out and they like the idea of having two teenagers back in the house. Don't ask me why, all me and her did was fight, but yea. If they start treating you like their surrogate daughter, run fast. Next thing you know you'll be wearing a skirt. Well who knows, you're gay, you might like it. Just kidding of course._

_Your mom sounds like a cool person. I think my mom wouldn't mind too much if I were gay but she definitely wouldn't be trying to meddle in my love life. And I agree, it's not a good thing when moms do. I remember this one kid way back in the day (he used to be my best friend until he moved and cut off all ties), his mom was such a bitch. She kept ruining everything for us. Sometimes that was a good thing (dude, we did so much fucked up shit back then. Can you imagine, four eight year olds wreacking havoc onto the town? That was me and my group of friends. We were horrible), at other times she was just too pigheaded to consider anyone else's point of view._

_Funny...I haven't actually thought of him in years. I used to check the mailbox every day, took me about two years to finally accept the fact that Kyle wasn't going to write me anymore. Kept his parents number on speeddial for another half year or so, then one day I called it, he picked up and I realised we had nothing in common anymore. I hung up without saying anything and erased the number from our phone. Odd isn't it? How you can be so close to someone and just...lose touch. I remember that he promised me we'd always be super best friends._

_So yeah, that was random. Don't mind me, I'm in an odd mood today. Gotta go now, going to play videogames at a friends house._

_-Stan_

He'd sent out the message, wondering why on earth he was telling a random stranger about Kyle. It hadn't been completely true. He did think about his former best friend occasionally, mostly when he was drunk or upset in the first place. It always ended with him breaking something, whether it be a plate, vase or his hand. Somehow after all this time it still upset him. If he only knew **why** things had happened. Why Kyle Brovlofski had decided he didn't need Stan Marsh in his life anymore. Maybe if he knew he could move on and forget about his friend the way the other had done to him.

As Kenny opened the door and saw his face they both sighed, knowing that this would be one of those nights again. They'd get drunk enough to let down their walls and discuss the things that really bothered them. Or, preferably, they'd get Cartman so drunk he would pass out and **then** discuss the things that really mattered.

--

Meanwhile, in a different town, in a different house, Kyle Brovlofski opened the e-mail he'd gotten from the guy he'd be spending the better part of two weeks with soon. Music was playing in the background as he tapped a pencil on the paper over and over again, chewing on his bottom lip as he read the mail. Not even noticing the pressure that increased the further he got into the e-mail, only when the pencil snapped did he realise that his knuckles were white from the iron grip he'd held on it. Cursing loudly in Hebrew he got up from his chair, clenching his fists. Jesus Christ. Stan Marsh, of all people. Of all the goddamn people in the goddamn world his exchange partner had to be Stan Marsh.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Third Time is the Charm

**Author: **Miarae

**Summary: **It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

**A/N: **My very first SP fic. I'm really excited about writing this. And all the reviews and story alerts made me so happy! Thank you all.

* * *

**Stan,**

**There is something I need to tell you about your old friend. I didn't realise it before your last e-mail, but..we used to know each other. We used to be, as you said, 'super best friends'.**

Kyle looked at his computer screen, fingers already reaching towards the backspace button. He couldn't find the right words to tell his old friend that he would be staying, let alone why they'd lost touch. Even if Stan, as he said, had barely thought about him in years, the same couldn't be said for the Jew. He had thought about him every day for years. Still thought about him almost daily. But to have the past thrown into his face again, after all he'd been through? For the first time he wanted to back out of this exchange trip.

Turning The Cure up he clenched his fists, kicking one of his shoes through the room before muttering to himself. It was followed by a swift rap on his door and the unmistakable voice of Sheila Broflovski. "Kyle? Are you alright?" As much as he loved his mother, at times she was still the bitch Stan made her out to be. Highly protective and intrusive.

"Yeah mom, I'm fine." He opened his closet door, a mess, but he knew exactly where to find the one thing that had always comforted him. His ushanka. The little hat he'd worn as a boy, that Stan had once called the nicest hat he'd ever seen. It triggered memories as he hugged it to his chest, smelling the familiar scent that was just South Park through and through.

**Hey dude,**

**This is going to sound so lame, but: surprise! You get to have your old super best friend back in South Park for a while. Yeah, shocker, I know. Your last e-mail...you almost got me sick at the end of it, when I wasn't the one with the weak stomach. I...Stan, I've thought about you a lot. In fact...**

He ran his fingers through his curly hair, looking at the screen. He sounded like a girl, trying to write her first love letter. Again the words were deleted and altered until finally he was left with:

**Hey dude,**

**It's Kyle Broflovski.**

Pinching the bridge of his nose in an imitation of his old friend, Kyle contemplated on that sentence for a while. Was it really a smart idea to send him this? Stan might back out of the exchange, or expect him to. The rational part of him that said they had been ten at the time and Stan would have gotten over it by now was fighting with the irrational part that just wanted to see Stan, no matter the cost. Their friendship had been over a long time ago, would it really matter if he lied to him? Pretended not to know him? To not have figured it out?

Maybe it would and maybe it wouldn't. But for now it was easier to answer him back as just a nameless stranger. Although Stan was right, he would have to come up with a name. He could admit his name was Kyle too, it was a generic enough name, right? Growling under his breath he finally started typing again, deciding that he'd take the risk and see where this attempt led him.

**Hey Stan,**

**Actually my name is Kyle. I didn't keep it from you on purpose, but I was in a rush most of the time and tend to forget signing my e-mails. Most of the people know it's me anyway. So, good to meet you dude. I'm looking forward to coming over. Your parents sound nice, though the dress-up scares me. I think it'd pretty much scar them, so it's a good thing you're joking. You -are- joking right? Or should I sleep with a gun next to my pillow?**

**Anyway, I've been in a similar situation with my former best friend. Only I was the one to move away. I tried to keep in touch but then my dad died, and afterwards it was just...too late, I suppose. Plus I was dead ashamed of him having to see the crap house we lived in. His parents weren't exactly wealthy but they did pretty well, and with my dad gone and mom having to take care of my little brother...I've slept on the couch for years. I guess I was ashamed, and worried that he wouldn't want to hang out with me anymore. Silly, but I was ten at the time. I still miss him sometimes, so it's okay to talk and think about your friend. Don't be too hard on him, he might have been in a similar situation as I have. You never know.**

**I hope you had a good night at your friends' place. Say hi for me next time, will you? It's a little odd...I've never met them but somehow they seem familiar. I guess it's because you've told me so much about them. **

**G'night!**

**-Kyle**

He checked and re-checked the e-mail, chewing on his bottom lip. It wasn't perfect but it would have to do. There was no way that he could tell him like this. Maybe when they exchanged phone numbers. Maybe then. It was so easy to postpone it, because he knew how much hurt it would stir up in both of them. And was it so bad to want to see where this could lead? If they could become friends, despite of their past?


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Third Time is the Charm

**Author: **Miarae

**Summary: **It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

**A/N: **My very first SP fic. I'm really excited about writing this. And all the reviews and story alerts made me so happy! Thank you all.

The first part of this story will probably be over in two chapters. If you have any ideas, comments or critique, please leave a review! I am trying to find my way in a new fandom, and am eager to learn from people that have read/written South Park fics.

* * *

"I just don't get it. I _don't_" Stan opened another beer, taking a swig from it and absently wiping his bangs from his face. It was getting long and he needed a haircut, but he rather liked the way the girls swooned when he brushed the hair away from his eyes. He sighed deeply, looking at the room. Cartman had passed out on the couch, leaving Kenny and him on the floor, discussing the same topic over and over again. No matter how they strayed from it, everything always came back to it. To _him_. The one person who could complete their group, the one they had missed ever since he moved. The one they couldn't replace even though in time others had come, they had always gone eventually.

Kyle Broflovski. Jew, ginger, some of the names Cartman affectionately called him. Ky to Stan. His 'super best friend'. He felt pathetic admitting it, even to himself, but it was still a spot in his heart only Kyle could fill again. No matter how hard Kenny tried, he would never be him. Sometimes he really wished that he could just let go of the past and replace him. It just wasn't right, and Stan Marsh felt torn. He _wanted_ to move on, to erase him from everything but memory, but he just couldn't do it. It had always been Kyle and Stan. Stan and Kyle. The terrible two, and in most situations, the sensible two. The ones peope appealed to when they wanted something done from Cartman or Kenny. The ones that were always seen together, even when he first starting 'dating' Wendy.

"I know" Kenny replied exasperatedly, tossing his empty can into the waste basket, only to open another immediately afterwards. Stan looked at his friend but said nothing, knowing that it was probably his fault to begin with. He was a lousy friend, wasn't he? Pinching the bridge of his nose with a loud sigh he drank down the last of his beer and picked up one of the controllers that had been abandoned hours ago.

"Let's play"

* * *

_Hey Kyle,_

_Funny. I got your e-mail and read your first name, and for one second I thought that you might actually be, you know, __**him**__. But you wouldn't do that to me, you would have known it's me and told me. Still, part of me couldn't help but hope, you know? Is it weird that I still want to see him? I mean...I don't want to, but I do. Does that make sense?_

_I think I could forgive him if it was something like that, but I think he would have told me. We were super best friends. The best of the best. There was nothing he couldn't tell me, just like I could always count on him. He didn't laugh at me when I threw up all over my first girlfriend, just like I didn't laugh at him. Friends doesn't even come close to describing what we were._

_God, I sound like a total fag don't I? Going on and on about some guy I used to be friends with when I was ten? I'm sorry dude, I'll shut up about him. It's just...my friends here don't want to hear it anymore. Except maybe Kenny but it hurts him so much, you know? Because he's been there for me ever since Ky moved and I still can't call him my best friend._

_Part of me just...wants to see him one last time. Talk to him, find out we have nothing in common and that's that. I can move on, Kenny can be my best friend, and things will be great. I just need him -out- of my system, because even if he's been absent from my life for eight years, even though he's missed every important thing, everything that made me the way I am...he's still the one person I want in my life._

_But it's not like I can do anything about it. I mean, I can't exactly look up his address, travel to wherever the hell he lives now, ring the doorbell and expect him to even recognize me, let alone want to spend time with me. Or maybe he would. I don't know, maybe he thinks about me as much as I do about him. Maybe if I ring the doorbell he'll take one look at my blue eyes and know it's me. Maybe we'd get to be super best friends again, and it's like nothing ever happened._

_Yeah, that's likely. Sorry for the rant dude, I've just come back from my friends' place and I've had a few beers. Alcohol tends to put me in a good mood, just not when I've been thinking about __**him**__ again. You should ask my friend Kenny about it sometime. Maybe with you there he'd get to see that he is my best friend in everything but name._

_Anyway, I gotta go, catch up on some sleep. Thanks for letting me talk to you, I promise my next e-mail won't be the depressing rant this was._

_-Your friend,  
Stan_


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Third Time is the Charm

**Author: **Miarae

**Summary: **It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

**A/N: **My very first SP fic. I'm really excited about writing this. And all the reviews and story alerts made me so happy! Thank you all.

The first part of this story will probably be over in two chapters. If you have any ideas, comments or critique, please leave a review! I am trying to find my way in a new fandom, and am eager to learn from people that have read/written South Park fics.

This chapter is for **SomeRandomKyleBroflovskiFan**, whose review made my day.

* * *

Kyle couldn't get those words out of his head, and even though he usually had the perfect reply ready for most situations, he was now left speechless. And even though he knew that he'd eventually have to reply to Stan, he happily accepted every distraction that was thrown his way.

That's how he found himself in the park late at night, after having spent most of the Sunday with Ike. Even though they were now too old to play kick the baby, they had a lot of fun together. Brother by blood or not, the Broflovski brothers had a lot in common, and Kyle really liked spending time with his younger brother. Ike was the one person he'd miss most when he left for South Park. _If_ he left, because that last e-mail had made him doubt it had ever been a good idea. Stan would -kill- him, and if he didn't then Kenny certainly would. With no one to look forward to but Cartman...he really had nothing to look forward to.

So here he was. Eleven at night with an important test in the morning. Playing lazily with his skateboard, wondering if anyone would show up at this hour. He needed a distraction, and though skating usually provided excellent opportunity to think, he wanted to do anything -but- think. There was no escaping Stan Marsh and it drove him insane.

So when Stuart showed up he almost bounced towards him, though he usually stayed away. The guy was nice enough, but he had more interest in Kyle's ass than his words, and it made the Jew uncomfortable. It was bad enough that he got the whispers in school, the notes that were passed behind his back. He thought that with coming out of the closet things would get better, but they'd only gotten worse. Now there were guys after him too. Sometimes Kyle wondered if the people in San Francisco were even more insane than the ones in South Park.

Okay, so he didn't look half bad. His hair had darkened some over the years, and he sometimes even managed to model it, though the curly strands still tended to bounce around his face. Which left him with the annoying habit (or adorable, depending on which girl you asked) of blowing them out of his face whenever he was reading or working in class. Otherwise he was just a regular guy. Not too muscled, though he wasn't the twig he used to be as a little boy. Skating did some good to him after all, leaving him with a not too bad body, again, depending on who you asked. And depending on what day you asked Kyle of course, since like any adolescent he had days that he severely disliked parts of his anatomy.

But for some reason Stuart liked him, and he made it very clear whenever they were at the ramp together. It wasn't so much what he -said-, more the fact that his eyes were permanently stuck on him and made him feel extremely awkward. However, today wasn't like any other day. Today he wanted some distraction and Stuart was excellent company. Leaving his skateboard at the ramp, Kyle headed over to him, a smile on his face. "Hey Stu. Parents kicked you out again?" He knew every story about every one of his friends. An excellent listener, Kyle remembered most of the things people had told him or someone else in his company. Stuart for example had a very docile mother and an absolute asshole for a father. The guy worked as a car salesman and got home only to pass out on the couch after so many beers. Inbetween drinking he usually verbally abused his son, especially little gay Stuart. Maybe Kyle would have been close with him if the other didn't always give him the impression that he wanted to jump the guys bones. Then again, maybe that was just a way of never having to connect with anyone, other than physically.

Stuart just smiled at him, the special smile he only gave -or seemed to give anyway- to Kyle Broflovski. Together they headed over to the skate park, that was filled with stairs, ramps and all the things to keep the skaters from going into town to practise. They amused themselves there for a while, Kyle with practising the frontside lipslide, Stuart with mainly watching him. He didn't mind all too much today, and in fact sat down next to him an hour into their evening, running a sweaty hand through his curls and smiling at the guy. Maybe they could talk for a while. "Hey dude?"

"Mm?"

"Did you ever...you know, lose a friend?"

"Some" Right, another reason he barely ever talked to Stu. The guy didn't really like the long answers all too much, which made it extremely difficult to maintain a conversation, much less a personal one.

"When I moved here I left my best friend behind. We used to talk a bunch, for the first year or so. Then dad died and we lost touch." Stuart mm-ed again and Kyle took this as a sign to continue. "So, I entered this exchange program. Turns out we're going to South Park, of all places. Turns out...the guy I'm staying with is my former best friend."

"Tough" Great analysis.

Kyle wrapped his arms around his knees, staring into the darkness with a sigh. Should he back out of this exchange trip alltogether? And if so, should he tell Stan the truth? Or should he be sneaky, change e-mail addresses and randomly send him a card for Christmas or some other lame holiday? But if Stan ever found out...was he really prepared to get back in touch with a friend only to lose him again?

Suddenly Stuart shook him from his reverie. "Hey Kyle?"

"Mm?"

"He'll like you. He'll want to be your friend again."

He lifted his head in surprise, green eyes trying to determine why Stuart had spoken up, when suddenly the brown-haired boy leaned in and kissed him. As Kyle felt those lips pressed onto his own, as he slowly responded to the kiss, he wondered why, even when he was kissing someone, he was still thinking about Stan.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **Third Time is the Charm

**Author: **Miarae

**Summary: **It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

The first part of this story is over after this chapter. The second part will be the first part of the exchange program. If you have any ideas, comments or critique, please leave a review! I am trying to find my way in a new fandom, and am eager to learn from people that have read/written South Park fics.

This is a short chapter, but it ended the way I wanted it to.

* * *

It was hard, but in the end he never told Stan. He responded to his e-mail of course, playing the part of a concerned friend, giving him advice on how to treat the elusive former best friend. If Stan only remembered part of that when he saw him...but he wouldn't, would he? He'd get angry, not just for leaving him behind all those years ago, but also for betraying him, pretending to be someone else. Their e-mails had gotten longer and more personal, and though he had shared some very intimate details he had never once told him that he was his Kyle. 

His Kyle. God. That sounded so wrong, didn't it? But then again, wasn't that exactly who he was? He'd always been Stan's Kyle. Part of him had always belonged to the blue-eyed boy he'd left behind in tears. Little things, little memories only they shared. Little notes he still kept in his drawer, written in childish handwriting. Some were of a game they used to play. They'd fold pieces of paper in four parts and switched them off, until eventually they were left with two names, an action and a place.

Taking the box out of the drawer he opened them and read them fondly, some bringing a smile to his face even after all those years. One was at the bottom and he brushed his thumb over Stans words, smiling a little, remembering how extremely awkward they'd been around each other when that sentence had been read.

_Stan and _**Kyle **_are kissing _**in the rain**

Most of the papers held either one or the two of them. Some said stupid things, like **Kyle and **_Mr Mackey _**are discussing the weather **_in a bathtub_, or _Stan __and _**a black sheep**_ are iceskating _**on the moon**. Others were simply boring because they were too predictable, but still he held onto them, remembering the days they spent in class or outside at lunch. The days when it was just the two of them, because Kenny had died and Cartman was off doing God-knows-what. Those were the best days, and he hadn't had something like that after he moved to San Francisco. Sure, he'd had friends, but no one like Stan. Never someone like Stan.

God, if he didn't know any better he'd say he had a crush on Stan Marsh.

* * *

Stan was looking forward to finally meeting Kyle. The guy had been so kind when he responded to the whole drunk ramble, which by the way had embarrassed him from the moment he opened his e-mailbox to see that he hadn't responded. Those two days had seemed like the longest of his life, and he was afraid that the guy would think he was a completely douche bag. Eventually the reply had come and they'd grown quite close over the few weeks they'd been corresponding. In fact, other than Kenny this Kyle probably knew more about him than most people. Something Kenny pointed out frequently, telling him that he shouldn't confide everything in him just because he shared the same name with a former best friend. It was the first time that Stan and Kenny had spent their entire day in icy silence. 

He was cleaning out his room, his clothes cabinet to be more exact. Kyle would get to stay in Shelley's room, but there was still an insane amount of clothes there, and the guy needed a few drawers to put his stuff in. It was a boring job, but the music playing in the background made him feel better. He had an odd taste in music, in fact it was pretty much the only thing he and Kyle couldn't agree over. The other had called the bands he listened to 'faggoty' and in turn Stan had proclaimed that his hip-hop was a load of crap. They'd gotten into a playful banter over it, and he was sure that this would continue when the guy actually came to visit him. It was odd, but there was no question in his mind, no worry that they wouldn't hit it off in real life. He was just...familiar. Like he'd known him forever.

Stan knew he'd soon stumble across the pictures stuffed way in the back of his closet, ones he didn't want to look at, but at the same time he did. So he took them out, flipping to the ones that held him and Kyle. Two little boys, arms over each others shoulder, smiling brightly into the camera. His finger brushed over the redhead in the picture. "If only you were him...maybe we'd be friends again."

He knew there was no chance in _hell_ he would ever befriend Kyle if he really turned out to be his long lost friend. No chance, because he'd been playing with him. And for what reason? Stan had already told him that he would have forgiven him for letting them drift apart if the entire story about his father was true. So really, there was no reason that Kyle needed to lie to him, and therefore this wasn't his Kyle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: **Third Time is the Charm

**Author: **Miarae

**Summary: **It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Bold** is Kyle texting, _Italic_ is...well you'll find out soon enough.

* * *

Of course November 13th had to be a Friday. How could it be anything else, when Kyle had been dreading this day for weeks. The day he'd go back to South Park, back to Stan. How was he going to explain why he hadn't told him? Especially since he -knew- Stan might have forgiven him for abandoning him all those years ago. The same couldn't be said for his betrayal, and yet here he was, entering the bus that would lead him back to what he sometimes still called his home. After all, home is where the heart is and blue-eyed Stan Marsh still held a big part of exactly that. 

He wasn't in love with him, but the guy had been his first and best friend, and they still matched so well. When they were talking, even if it was just through e-mail, there was something there. A spark, a hint of the friendship they'd once shared. Kyle wanted nothing more than to have that back. To have someone he could trust, and he was sometimes disgusted with himself because he was supposed to give it back to him, and instead he lied and kept secrets from him. Honestly, he couldn't blame Stan for hating him, even though he really wanted a chance to prove his old friend that he was still the same Kyle Broflovski, only a little older, a lot taller and well...gay.

Plopping down in a seat he took out his I-pod and turned it on, the hip-hop music filling his ears and head until it was blissfully quiet. It was a long trip, and the first few hours flew by pretty fast, but the closer they got to South Park, the harder it became to not fidget in his seat. Finally giving in to his nerves, he took out his cellphone and texted the one person that knew all there was to know about Stan and Kyle, the highschool years. Stuart. The skater had surprised him that Sunday night, and not just with the kiss. No, they had actually -talked- 'til late in the morning, and that night had been on repeat ever since. Stuart still showed his crush, but it didn't bother Kyle as much as it used to. Actually, with his latest feelings of self-loathing it was a welcome attention.

**Dude, I'm going crazy...What if he takes one look at me and tells me to go home?**

_We talked about this. Take a deep breath, try to relax. Nobody in their right mind can resist you. ;)_

**I don't -want- to have to switch partners. If he doesn't want me there I might as well give up and go home. Why am I on this buss again?!**

_You're a fighter. Don't give up. He can't avoid you the entire time that you're in South Park. :)_

**Maybe he can. Maybe he will. What if he does? What if he won't listen to me:X**

_-Make- him listen. Kyle, you'll be fine. You'll be a big, fat fucking success, as always._

Kyle ran his fingers through his messy curls, taking a deep breath and turning the volume of his music up, having switched to the Cure, because he wanted to remember the fun he had with Stan bantering about their taste in music. Honestly, who liked Fall Out Boy?

**I suppose. I'm just scared that I won't know what to say to him. That he won't ever give me a chance to even explain. Maybe I should write him a letter and just hand it to him when I get off the bus...**

_Kyle, chill. Write a letter, but don't give it to him straight away. Use it to calm yourself down, write down everything you want to tell him. You can always give it to him at the end of the exchange. Don't forget...you can always text me, and have fun!!!_

Stuart was right, and the texts did make him feel better. He reread them a few more times before putting the cellphone back in his pocket, closing his eyes and listening to the music. Everything would work out the way it needed to. Everything happened for a reason. He just had to remind himself of that every time he got nervous or worried. Maybe he wasn't meant to be friends with Stan, maybe they'd find out that they really had nothing left in common, but at least it would give them closure. They might be able to put everything in the past and move on with their lives. Who knows, this might give Stan what he wanted most: to be able to forget about Kyle and be happy with Kenny as his best friend.

So when they arrived in South Park, he took his bag, shaky hands picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder. He was the last one to exit the bus, a baseball cap hiding his messy curls from view, as to not give away his identity immediately. For once he hated the fact that he was tall, as it was hard to hide behind others. But Stan hadn't seen him in eight years, and there was no way he'd recognize him, was there? As green eyes scanned the crowd he made out some familiar faces. Token Black. It wasn't hard to see, as he was still the only black kid in town. Butters Stotch. Still the same friendly and shy face. And then...blue eyes. Sapphire almost, staring at him in wonder. How could he not recognize those eyes?

Stan Marsh. And he was furious.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: **Third Time is the Charm

**Author: **Miarae

**Summary: **It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**A/N: **Near 1200 pageviews and only 17 reviews. Am I doing something wrong? Please review, it means so much to me. I want to know how I can improve on my story.

And this chapter is extremely short. I had major writers-block.

* * *

**Dear Stan,**

**If you read this, we're probably in a huge fight. And you have every right and reason to hate me. I just hope that you reading this letter means I'll still have a chance to make it up to you.**

**I know I should have told you the moment I figured it out, and that there is no excuse that could possibly make this all okay. I still want to try and explain though, and I can only hope you'll read this and understand that I never meant to hurt you.**

**I love you, Stan. I have always loved you, even when we didn't talk. I wanted to call you so many times. Why didn't I do it? Because I thought you'd be better off without me. I was just a loser, with no time for anything, let alone a super best friend. I figured that if I didn't contact you, you'd move on and find another best friend. And I wanted you to, Stan, I really did. When I realised that I was actually talking to you and not some other random kid called Stan (which I really tried to convince myself of, even after I heard you live in South Park) it hurt to know that you still thought of me as much as I thought of you. Because I suddenly felt like all those years I spent trying not to call you were in vain.**

**And part of me was happy, because you were back in my life and it seemed as if you liked being in it. I did too. I loved being able to talk to you, feel that closeness again. Did you feel it too? Like some emptiness had been filled? I never thought that I would feel like that again, and I knew that telling you, without being able to actually face you and talk about it in person, would leave me more alone than ever. I didn't want that, and that's why I lied. Because I missed you, and I love you, and I wanted all that I could get in the limited time we had. I'm sorry if I hurt you Stan, I didn't mean to. I considered leaving long before I even got onto that bus, but one way or another we need that talk.**

**So yeah...I'll be waiting for you, to come to talk to me.  
-Kyle**

He'd put his phone number underneath the signature, hoping that Stan might at least send him a text. Now all he needed was to give the letter to him, but with the way those blue eyes were looking at him he was worried that his ex-friend would rip it in half before he could even tell him what the letter was about. So instead of handing it over like he wanted to, he just walked over to him, eyes only leaving the others face to briefly look at his parents. They didn't seem to recognize him, and he couldn't blame them. He was glad that they were there though, it would make it harder for Stan to either beat him senseless or leave without him.

"Hello" His voice wavered a little, but he smiled at Randy and Sharon Marsh, ignoring the furious teen for the moment. Extending his hand he shook both of their hands. "I'm Kyle. It's nice to meet you."

Sharon was about to reply to him when her son spoke up. "You already know him mom. Remember the Jewish kid that used to live here? With the superbitch as a mother?" The warm smile on her face froze as she glared at her son for a moment, disapproving of his words. Kyle just stood there, awkwardly fingering his backpack.

"Of course I remember. Well that is just great. You must tell us everything about...San Francisco, was it? Isn't it wonderful, Stanley? Having your old friend back?" Maybe she was just blind, or she tried to relieve a bit of tension. Whatever it was, it wasn't working. Stan just glared at him, only answering when his father elbowed him in the ribs.

"Fan-fucking-tastic" His friend answered sarcastically, still shooting daggers with his eyes. Kyle flinched a little, the smile on his face growing faker with the second. Honestly, what had he been expecting? For Stan to hug him and forgive everything? To say that he was happy, and that his betrayal meant nothing? That they would be super best friends again, just like -that-? This needed time, and a lot of it. For the first time he worried that two weeks wouldn't be enough, and that Stan flat out refused to come visit him when the exchange program was switched around and the South Park kids would be staying in San Francisco.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: **Third Time is the Charm

**Author: **Miarae

**Summary: **It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**A/N: **Thanks to all the people that reviewed last chapter. It means a lot to me and I hope you'll continue to review and give me feedback! Even if it's not positive, I welcome it! Though longer chapters are probably not going to happen. I'm jealous of people that can write a 10000 word chapter, I usually get stuck around a 1000.

**A/N2: **The song Stan is listening to is "It's hard to say I do when I don't" by Fall Out Boy.

* * *

"There is your room, now get out of my face."

With those friendly words, Stan left his childhood friend alone in the pink and frilly room that was his sisters. Part of him wished she would swing by to see them, if only because she hated it if anyone but her hurt her little turd-brother. But no matter how amusing it would be to watch her beat up Kyle, he didn't want to risk the chance that the Jew had to stay in his room while Shelley took up residence in hers. So instead of wanting to beat the crap out of him, he did the sensible thing and left him alone, locking his own bedroom door before letting himself fall down on his bed.

Turning on Fall Out Boy he listened to the song, staring at the ceiling with a pained expression.

_When I said that I'd return to you I meant more like a relapse..._

How could he? How _could_ he? After all they'd shared, after having **told** him how much he missed him? Was he -trying- to hurt him or was that just an added bonus? He'd thought that they were friends, and instead he'd been lied to and played with. Stan felt betrayed, but worse, he felt _cheap_. Cheap and stupid because he should have known. Somehow, some way, he should have seen.

_I speak fast and I'm not gonna repeat myself, no  
So listen carefully to every word I say:  
"I'm the only one who's gonna get away with making excuses today"_

There were so many things he wanted to say to him. He wanted to yell at him, scream, throw him against the wall and demand an explanation, but as he always did, he stayed right where he was and let those scenarios play through his head. Unlike in the past, he didn't go goth whenever something bad happened, but he was still a little on the emo side. Words rather than actions, and feelings were best expressed in poems or songs. Sighing he pulled the blankets up to his face and closed his eyes, trying to figure out what to do about this mess.

* * *

Kyle had stayed in his room like Stan had asked, staring at the wall with his bag in front of feet. What good would it do to unpack when he was about to be thrown back out anyway? The door was still open and he could hear Sharon and Randy talking quietly in the kitchen. Once or twice he could make out his name, together with the mention of his mother and baby brother. Most of their hushed conversation was about Stan though, and probably what to do with this whole situation. Honestly, he should just do the right thing and leave. Just as he'd convinced himself of that and had actually made a move to get up and grab his back pack, the door to Stans room opened and out came the raven-haired teen, still looking pissed off as ever but a little calmer. That didn't last long though, as he saw the move Kyle had made, and his eyes narrowed again in anger. Their gazes met for a few brief seconds, before Stan walked towards the stairs, only calling out a "Don't you fucking dare leave, you fag." as he left his sight.

* * *

_You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have  
Blackmailed myself  
Cause I ain't got anyone else_

Kenny McCormick heard the footsteps before the doorbell rang and darted through the house, trying to prevent whoever was going to pass by from waking up his father. He was just in time, the anger on his face melting away when he saw Stan, finger almost on the bell. "Hey..." His friend looked angry and upset, and he glanced at the couch before stepping outside, grabbing his jacket as he exited.

"What happened?" They started their journey to Starks Pond as they always did, only stopping briefly to light a cigarette and pick up some booze. He wondered about his friend, but was happy all the same that he'd decided to stop by. It was their usual Tuesday night but he'd expected Stan to be with the new arrival, this guy he'd been so hung up on. Apparently they didn't hit it off as well as his friend and hoped and Kenny bit back an 'I told you so'. Far be it from him to judge them, but he knew as well as anyone that people could be different in real life than they were on the Internet.

Stan clenched his fists inside his pockets, breathing in the cold winter air as they walked towards the pond, silence between them for the first few minutes. He had the words, he just didn't know how to tell Kenny. Kyle had not only been his friend, he'd been close to the McCormick boy as well. And no matter how you twisted it, the blonde had always been jealous of his friendship with Kyle, even years after he'd left. It was hard to bring all this up again, though he really saw no way out of this conversation. After all, he could hardly hide the San Francisco teen from his friends.

_And there's nothing in your head or pocket, throat or wallet  
That could change just how this goes_

"Kyle. It's Kyle."

"He not what you expected of him?"

"No dude. He's _Kyle_."


	10. Chapter 10

**Title**: Third Time is the Charm

**Author**: Miarae

**Summary**: It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**A/N**: Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been really busy, and I've got a wrist problem, so I can't type too much at once. I've been going back to the surgeon so maybe I'll get another operation soon. In the mean time, here's another update, inspired by the episode Guitar Queer-o. "I need you" Aw!

* * *

Kyle Broflovski. He used to love the guy, though he'd envied him a lot. Not only was he a grade A student, he was also the best friend of Stan Marsh, which left him stuck with Eric Cartman. Their friendship had been complicated to say the least, and he'd died over and over, trying to somehow manage to win the fat boys friendship, because it was toleration at the most. Eventually, when Kyle had left, he'd grown closer to Stan and finally realised what it was like to have a best friend. Someone you could talk to, share every secret with. Kenny McCormick knew everything about the raven-haired teen, from the exact details of his sexlife with Wendy to the poetry he'd written in his depressed moods. He knew everything, and sometimes he thanked the Lord for sending Kyle from Stan's side. He knew that with the Jew in South Park he never would have been so lucky. 

And now the redhead was back, and Kenny was torn. Part of him was angry and wanted to keep Kyle as far away as possible...but how selfish would that be? When he knew how much Stan still wanted his friend back, even if the way he'd lied to him was despicable. Stan couldn't hate him, and Kenny did his best to loathe the other teen for the both of them. It was hard, with the little things he'd uncovered. Kyle hadn't had an easy life, that much he was sure of, and he knew that he hadn't meant to hurt Stan. He just wanted a chance, and who could blame him for that? Stan Marsh was a great guy, a great friend to have. It was normal for Kyle to want that back, but Kenny didn't know if it was a good idea to let him. Because if he did...it would be Stan and Kyle again. Not Stan and Kenny and Kyle, or Stan and Kyle and Kenny. He'd always be in the middle, and he'd be pushed aside eventually.

So yes, Kenny definitely wanted to be able to hate his former friend, but it was hard.

* * *

Meanwhile, the redhead in question wondered if Stan would ever be able to forgive him. They'd spent some time together, with the activities organised by the school, that both had to attend. So they'd been at a game, and Kyle had been lost in thought, remembering how they'd cheer together. Such a long time ago. He'd wasted so much time, and now...it was too late. 

Most of the people in South Park had forgiven him for betraying their star quarterback, figuring it was none of their business. He'd spent some nights catching up with friends as Stan had left the house without saying a word. He was always back before the raven-haired teen returned, though he doubted that his former friend even noticed. If he did, he didn't acknowledge it. He barely acknowledged Kyle to begin with. He nodded to him, but most of the time he pretended that Kyle was nothing but a big bubble of air.

It was hard, sometimes it was harder than he could stand, and he'd gritted his teeth only to cry in the pillow on so many occasions. But still, he was here. In South Park. Even if the days went by faster than he wanted them to, even if he was dreading the return trip to San Francisco. His eyes drank in the sight of Stan, and he mapped every little detail to memory. So, even if they didn't talk, he learned a lot about his friend. From the way he wrinkled his forehead when something disgusted him – more often than not yours truly, also known as 'fag' – and the way his eyes lit up when something good happened to him. The way the blue of his eyes seemed to intensify as he was confronted with people he cared about, or when he handled an animal, his hands so soft and gentle. It were small things like that, that Kyle knew he'd never forget. He got to know his best friend in a way that few others ever would, and yet they hadn't shared anything.

* * *

Stan couldn't do it. He couldn't forgive Kyle, no matter how much he wanted to. Every time he came close to attempting it, he remembered the hurt eyes his former friend had showed him when he'd called him a fag. It was that word, more than anything, that stood between them. Because he didn't care, he had never cared at all, and still he'd said it. It was there, above his head, resonating in his head whenever he looked at him. Fag. Fag, fag, fag. He's a fag. His former best friend, and he'd never apologised for it. Kyle had tried to, but he'd sent him away time and time again, until finally he got that puppy-look. Like animals in the shelter that had known nothing but cruelty their entire life. He slumped, and backed off, like a dog that was threatened with a beating if it didn't go back into its little house. Eventually Kyle gave up, and that, more than anything, angered and upset Stan. Where did he get the goddamn right to give up? Shouldn't he fight, if their friendship still meant something to him? 

Maybe it was just too late. Days went by so quickly, mostly because he made sure never to be alone with Kyle. Time seemed to stop when they were in the room together, and he could sense the sadness that radiated from his friend. It made him feel guilty, and what right did Kyle have to make him feel like this? He hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't **him** who'd betrayed his best friend.

Huh. Best friend. He hadn't told Kenny, but in the time that Kyle and him had e-mailed each other, he'd found something he thought he'd lost a long time ago. Someone that understood him without a word, with nothing more than a glance. Which, of course, was completely stupid especially considering the fact that it had been printed words, nothing more. And still...still...his heart couldn't shut up. It kept telling him that deep down, Kyle had been and always would be his best friend. No matter how much he hated him right now. If only he could tell him that...if only he could...

But he couldn't, and he didn't, and when Kyle had to go back to San Francisco he let him go, without a hug or friendly word. He just handed him his backpack in silence, and watched his mother and father hug him. Sharon told him that she'd call his mother soon, and to give them her best regards. Randy just squeezed his shoulder, and Stan wondered if they'd been talking, because Kyle's eyes were watery as he hugged the man again, clinging to him for a second. It hurt, but in a strange way. He wasn't jealous, or anything. He didn't feel sorry for him either. It was just...hard to define. He made sure that the redhead didn't see any of that in his eyes though, when he looked at him, delaying the moment where he really had to say goodbye. And when he did, Kyle rushed over and hugged him so close Stan couldn't even breathe. A whisper in his ear that he couldn't decipher until the bus had already left, and Kyle was out of his life once again.

"I need you..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Title**: Third Time is the Charm

**Author**: Miarae

**Summary**: It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**A/N:**My wrist is getting ultrasound-ed December 6th. I'll have a meeting with the surgeon on December 18th and hopefully I'll get another operation -crosses fingers-

* * *

"I need you"

Kyle felt like smacking himself when he'd entered the bus, and his hands were shaking as he reached for the I-pod in his bag. Fingers brushed his notebook and he thought of the letter he'd written to Stan. Why couldn't he have left it at that? Why did he have to add those words? They made the situation seem so much worse. Like he had a crush on his friend, and wanted something more than he could give. Friendship was already so out of reach. Still, he'd left him the letter last night, pressing a soft and desperate kiss to the paper before slipping it between the sheets of Stans bed. He wondered if the other teen would even read it, or if he'd rip the words – and with that, Kyle's heart – apart.

Things had stayed silent. One day, two. He had called the house one time, wanting to talk to Randy who had told him to keep in touch. Stan had picked up, and Kyle had felt that familiar tug on his heart. He had hung up, before screaming into his pillow. Why couldn't he just give up hoping? No doubt Stan had read the letter by now. Didn't the silence tell him all he needed to know? He had to let go of him...

But he couldn't.

* * *

Stan put down the letter, carefully folding it before putting it in his drawer. The paper was getting thin, the words at the edges fading where he'd held it. He knew the words by heart now, having read it over and over when he couldn't sleep at night. Was it stupid to feel lonely now that Kyle had left? He'd missed seeing him, knowing that he'd be there whenever he came home. Even when they didn't talk, Stan had seen and felt him look. Now that he wasn't there anymore, he knew exactly what he should have said...should have done. Was it really too late now? There was so much he wanted to say, especially when Kyle had called the house. Somehow he'd known that it was his friend, and that both scared and comforted him. He'd wanted to e-mail him, or send a letter, but every time he tried the words wouldn't come. He wanted to say he understood, that he needed him too, because it was true. He missed talking to him, sharing his thoughts and secrets. He missed having that special connection with someone, the knowledge that in the entire world there was always one person who understood.

No matter what happened.

Did that mean though, that Kyle would understand his silence? The internal struggle between what was good and what felt right? Would his friend forgive him for the harsh words before he could ask for it?

How to go from here? He had to adress it somehow. It was too much of a risk to pretend that nothing had happened. Why was it that now, more than ever, he realized that there _was_ no Stan without Kyle?

* * *

_Kyle,_

_I know that I'm probably not the person you want to hear from right now, but there is something that I need to ask. A favor, if you will. I've been jealous of you for a long time. And even now, when part of me pities you...I'm still jealous. Because you are all he thinks about. You are all he has thought about for a long time. Whenever we got drunk..it was always "I don't understand? Why didn't he want to be my friend anymore?" Do you have any idea how hard that was? To listen to your best friend, to the one person you'd give your life for...and to hear him talk about someone else that way? I never thought, not in a million years, that I'd become his best friend one day. And maybe I've never been his best friend, because...you've always been there, even after you moved away._

_Somehow, by sheer chance, I made it in. For a messed up kid, from a family that never showed love, that meant the world to me. But I've always been disappointed, because Stan couldn't give me what he gave you. I gave everything I had to give, my love, friendship, devotion. I was there all the times he broke up with Wendy. I was there when he first got drunk. When he first slept with her. I was there all those times..and still I couldn't be enough. He'd never say anything, because he isn't like that. He's a good guy. Just a little stupid sometimes. He thinks I don't notice the way he talks about you. He thinks that I didn't see how much those past weeks hurt him. But I was a best friend once, and I did. Of course I did. _

_  
So that leaves me with no other choice. I have to send this letter, even though part of me wants to rip it into tiny little shreds and burn it. I have to, because even if I'm not Stans best friend, he is mine. I love him like a brother, and I know what makes him happy. You do. Take care of him, Kyle, the way you would have in the old days._

_Your friend,_

_-Kenny_


	12. Chapter 12

**Title**: Third Time is the Charm

**Author**: Miarae

**Summary**: It's his last year of high school and Stan thinks an exchange trip would be fun. How do you randomly encounter someone that used to be your best friend? Style.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**A/N:**This chapter is dedicated to **SomeRandomKyleBroflovskiFan**because my last chapter made her sad, and **Cristya Bladed **for writing a story that was dedicated to me!

A/N2: The correct order of letters is Stan (at 7:35), Kyle's (below) and then Stans' reply.

* * *

**Dear Stan,**

**Someone told me once how you have to fight for your friends, no matter the cost. Even though I can't agree with her (after all, what is a friendship if one of the two keeps fighting only to sacrifice himself over and over?), she had a point, and one I've always lived my life by. I'll fight for my friends..for those who fight for me in return. Maybe that sounds harsh, but I think that the benefits should always outweigh the costs. What point is there in fighting for something that's not worth it?**

**And exactly there lies my problem. Because who decides if something is worth it or not? Is it me? Is it you? Maybe it's both...or neither. And if we get the answer, how to go from there? Is a friendship really only salvable when two people are dedicated to it? There are so many problems with that reasoning..because what if we can't fight it in the same way? What if I push and cling, and you hide from me? How would we ever save something if we can't even figure out a way to get past that? And does it require a fair sharing of the fight? Will it go wrong if I fight for 50 percent and you can't match me in that? And even -if- we fought, in the exact same way, with the exact same amount of fighting, does that automatically mean we'll be okay? Or am I messing it up by trying too hard? So many questions, and I know you have the answers to none of them. Still, they are things that bother me...things that I want you to know because I'm trying -so- hard to fix it, to go back to normal. And it's not working, despite or maybe because of my efforts. I am just trying to show you how much you mean to me, and that, to me, you're worth it. But it feels like whatever I do or possibly -could- do, it's never going to be just solved because I want it to. Mom says it takes time, but I want to make everything go back to the way it was. But we can't, can we?**

Kyle sighed, running his tongue down his bottom lip as he reread the letter. It was how he felt, but wasn't it a bit too honest? He really didn't have his heart set on hurting Stan, and the letter probably didn't make too much sense in the first place. Just writing it helped, and he toyed with the idea of just burning it now that it had been written.

Running a hand through his auburn curls, he stretched before turning on his computer. It was late at night, and he'd just come back from his job. He'd briefly contemplated going to the skate park afterwards, since it was a Saturday, but had decided to head home in an attempt to get rid of some of his frustration. It'd been almost a week since he'd gotten Kenny's letter, and even though he'd been attempting to write a lot of letters, none had actually been sent out. Neither to the blonde, nor to his childhood best friend. Even e-mails left him gazing at the computer until images came flooding into his mind and he kicked away his chair in frustration.

Tonight promised to be no different, and Kyle went through the motions as he always did. Clicking the mouse with a bored look on his face, though something sparked in his eyes when his e-mail box popped up.

Stan Marsh No subject ‏ 7:35PM 2 KB

His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them on his jeans, pushing his glasses further back up his nose before putting his hand back on the mouse with a deep breath. His fingers were shaking a little, and it took him two tries to actually click the message.

* * *

Stan came home from his job at the animal shelter at seven, jumped into the shower and came out whistling, chuckling at himself as he did an impromptu dance step on his way to his bedroom. He was in a good mood, for the first time in days, and logged onto his computer as he pulled a shirt over his head. He was preparing for a nice and relaxing evening at Cartmans place, as much as a night with the fat bastard could be nice and relaxing. It was the first night that he hadn't thought of Kyle the entire day, though his best friend immediately popped back into his mind as he opened his inbox. Looking at the date, he ran fingers through his wet hair, before hesitantly hitting reply on the last e-mail Kyle sent him, a long time before they even met. 

Why he was doing it, he didn't know. Other than the fact that even after all this time, he still missed Kyle. Missed and loved him, and wanted him back. Or at least he wanted what they'd had back, those few e-mails and the feeling of having someone understand exactly what he meant, even if they were just written words.

_Kyle,_

_Happy Hannukah. _

_Stan_

Chewing on his bottom lip, he realized that he really had nothing to add to that, at least nothing that would lead to a nice and casual conversation, instead of heartache and difficult conversations he wasn't sure he was ready for. Hitting send, he jumped up from his chair, fixed his hair with a quick run-through of his hands, gave himself the once-over in the mirror and dashed out the door.

Only to come back drunk, fumbling with the lock at midnight until his father came down the stairs to let him in. Kenny had dropped him off, a surprisingly sober and silent Kenny, who had only patted his back when he'd blurted out that there was no better friend than him. Stumbling up the stairs, he realized that his computer was still on, and since the chair was about half-way towards the bed, he decided to go for a quick stop, and what the hell, a casual checking of his e-mail.

The words sobered him up quickly, as his foggy brain read and reread the words at least ten times, wondering what exactly Kyle meant by those words. It was a short letter, or a long e-mail, depending on how you looked at it, and he bit his nails, wondering what to send back. He wasn't too good with words, that had always been the Jews department.

_Dear Kyle,_

_No, we can't. But we -can- make it better. If you want to. I know now, that's what I want. I want you in my life, and I need you as my best friend. No one understands me the way you do, and even during those times when we didn't talk...I always sensed you. It's like...you know me, you know what I think and how I feel, without even asking me. I don't know where to go from here, like you said, I don't have the answers either. But I do know what I want, and I guess that we can only commit to that. Commit to our friendship, and fight in the best way we know how to. It isn't going to be easy. I do hide, and I've been doing it for so long that it's hard to change. I am willing to try, but no matter how you twist it, it's going to take time. Maybe a lot of time. But I know one thing Kyle..._

_I need you._


End file.
